


Past Tense

by NachoDiablo



Series: Sam Wilson Bingo [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America Sam Wilson, Identity Porn, M/M, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson Friendship, Secret Identity, Steve is bad at being covert, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Something about Sam's new mission partner feels oddly familiar.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: Sam Wilson Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046332
Comments: 18
Kudos: 44
Collections: Sam Wilson Bingo 2020





	Past Tense

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sam Wilson Bingo square, "Secret Identity."

As soon as Sam stepped into the abandoned warehouse, he scanned the space with a frown. “What the hell, no coffee? It’s five in the morning. You can’t drag me to an off-the-record meeting at five in the morning and not bring coffee.”

“My apologies, Cap. I would have set up a Keurig machine, if this place had electricity.”

The sharp sarcasm in Fury’s reply made Sam grin. “You could have stopped by a Starbucks or something. Put it on your expense report, SHIELD ain’t  _ that  _ cheap.”

“Yeah, they are,” Nat called from the entrance. She walked over to Sam and rested her head against his shoulder, pretending to stifle a yawn. “They’re always nitpicking my travel costs, trying to make me take flights with twelve hour layovers to save fifty bucks.”

“Regardless,” Fury interjected. “What part of  _ off-the-record  _ do you two not understand? I can’t expense breakfast for a meeting that isn’t even technically happening.”

The familiarity of the argument was comforting. This was the third off-the-record meeting (with no coffee) that Sam and Nat had been called to in as many months. Fury was paranoid, but this was a bit much.

“Alright then,” Sam said. “Let’s get to it. What are we waiting for?”

Fury nodded towards the entrance. “Him.” 

Sam whipped around to face the entrance. Beside him, Nat did the same. An unfamiliar white guy stood in the open doorway, framed in shadowed light. He was tall and broad with a tapered waist, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt that seemed tighter than it needed to be. Dark blond hair hung around his face, which sported a closely cropped beard and clear blue eyes. 

And he held a takeout tray with four large coffee cups. Sam heard Nat hum appreciatively as the man walked towards them with a hesitant smile and the tray held out like a peace offering.

“This is James Smith,” Fury said without preamble as he claimed his coffee. “Code name, Nomad. He’s going to be working with you two for the next few weeks on some special ops missions. Intel gathering, mostly. Officially, neither these missions nor Nomad exist. No paper trails, no voicemails, no  _ meal receipts, _ nothing.”

Nat grabbed two coffees from the tray and handed one to Sam. She raised her eyebrow as she passed over the cup, just a hairsbreadth, and Sam returned the gesture with a disguised shrug and slight wrinkle of his nose. 

Some stranger with an obviously fake name was going to join their secret missions? Fury was either off his rocker, or they were in some serious shit. And despite Fury’s flaws, he was steadfast. Which meant that shit was about to get messy.

A sharp nudge against Sam’s ribs brought him back to attention. Evidently Smith and Nat had been introducing themselves, and now it was Sam’s turn. He rearranged his features into a smile and accepted Smith’s handshake, but his gut prickled when their hands slid together. Smith had an impressive grip, but there was something… familiar in the way he held Sam’s hand, almost intimate. Unnerving.

“You’re Sam Wilson,” Smith said. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Sam replied, which didn’t make sense, but Sam hoped his lack of caffeine would excuse his weak conversation skills.

“You took up the shield after the Valkyrie was discovered?”

“Yeah.” 

It had been a few weeks after the original Captain America had been found. Apparently he’d thawed out just fine, with nary so much as an extra wrinkle, but declined to continue on as Cap. He’d retired, faded into the background somewhere, although Sam only knew that thanks to his job security clearance. As far as the public was concerned, the shield had been recovered from the plane, but Steve Rogers was as dead as ever.

Smith’s expression softened into something almost proud, which was weird. The corners of his eyes creased when he smiled, and Sam wondered how old he was. He’d estimate about ten or so years older than himself, but he was terrible at guessing ages. Especially with beards.

Fury called Smith to his side to review a file that Nat had handed over. Nat sidled up next to Sam and nudged their elbows together. Her eyebrows wriggled in an unspoken question.

“I guess he’s alright,” Sam said, just above a whisper. “Seems kinda familiar though.”

“You just think that because he’s your type,” Nat whispered back. “You’ve got the worst taste.”

Sam’s scowl made Nat grin in glee. “I’m kidding, Cap. He does seem kinda familiar. But… I think I trust him.”

Nat said the last part as though she’d confessed something shameful. Sam wrapped an arm around her in comfort. He brought the coffee cup to his lips, but paused when he noticed the logo of his favorite shop printed on the side. It was a local place that roasted their beans in-house, and it wasn’t in the most convenient location.

Upon first sip, Sam realized his drink was the shop’s special blend, his favorite, with the barest splash of whole milk. He eyed Smith as he took another sip. Lucky that he’d managed to guess Sam’s order correctly. 

Smith glanced up from the file and met Sam’s gaze. He smiled, far warmer than expected. Sam nodded in return and went back to his coffee, ignoring the thrum of his pulse.

~

“So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that we’re stealing intel from a SHIELD database where we both already have access?” Sam whispered in Nat’s ear as she typed a long line of override codes into a computer. 

“You’re a smart man, Sammy,” Nat murmured back. “We can’t have people  _ aware  _ that we accessed it. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know it.” Sam rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Just don’t love thinking about why, that’s all. Whatever we’re getting ready for, it’s not gonna be pretty.”

“It never is.” Nat stepped back and nodded to Smith, who stood in the back of the room, looking at a collection of newspaper clippings pinned to a cubicle cork board. “You’re up, new guy.”

Smith smiled as he came over to tap out commands. “Looks like someone in this office is a fan of yours, Cap. They got all your most heroic moments on display.”

Nat snickered. “Aw, that’s sweet. Maybe you should sign one of them.”

“Ha ha,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Glad I can provide some entertainment so you two don’t get bored.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” Smith insisted as he jammed a USB into the computer and began copying files over. He looked up to grin at Sam. “I’m a fan, too. You do great work as Cap. Not surprising, but--”

Smith’s mouth snapped shut as color flooded his cheeks. He quickly turned back to the screen and busied himself with the files.

Sam threw Nat a confused look. She shrugged back, but looked puzzled as well. It was weird phrasing. Maybe Smith was around back when they chose Sam to be the second Captain America? It might explain why Fury seems to trust him.

“All set.” Smith ejected the USB and pressed it into Nat’s hand, then turned to Sam. “Lead the way, Cap.”

Sam ignored the note of fondness in Smith’s voice, along with the knowing smirk on Nat’s face.

~

“On your left,” Smith whispered sing-song in Sam’s ear as they rounded the corner. They had ten minutes to get out of the building without being seen, and they kept a quick pace running through the halls.

Sam grinned, but didn’t reply until they reached the next corner. He sped up to pass Smith. “On  _ your  _ left,” he crowed quietly, and Smith laughed under his breath.

“Get a room,” Nat quipped, pushing between them to pull ahead.

Smith stumbled over a trash can. Sam pretended not to notice.

~

Of course the next mission went to hell.

They hadn’t been made, but it was a tight escape with more bullet dodging than Sam preferred on a Tuesday evening. Through sheer luck they’d made it out with minimal damage and masks intact, unrecognized by their peers. As they made their way out to the getaway car through an underground tunnel, Nat and Fury messaged back and forth, setting up some false threat as a decoy.

“Okay, looks like it’s our lucky day,” Nat wheezed. “There’s already a distraction in play.”

She was running so fast that Sam actually saw her break a sweat, something he’d never seen in their two years of working together. He was pretty winded himself. Smith, however, seemed perfectly fine. With the ease of Smith’s gait, Sam might have even suspected that he was holding his speed back, but that would be impossible, unless he was a robot or something.

“Some clowns are causing a disturbance outside,” Nat continued between gasps of breath. “Upstart supervillains showing off. We just have to get past the perimeter and then we’re--”

An explosion cut her off as the tunnel reverberated. Bits of rock began to crumble from the walls. Sam kicked up his heels to run faster towards the bright spot of moonlight at the end where the tunnel opened up. He did his best to dodge the debris, but as the explosions continued, the crumbling pieces grew larger and more painful.

Nat fared better as she dove between the obstacles. Sam noticed that Smith didn’t seem bothered as the rocks banged against him. Even larger pieces that would have caused Sam to stumble, Smith shook off with ease.

As they approached the exit, the tunnel entrance gave way. Nat dove through, but Sam and Smith were too far behind. Sam knew they wouldn’t make it through in time. Before he could process and come up with a hail Mary plan, strong arms wrapped around Sam’s chest and lifted him off the ground.

In the blink of an eye, Sam stood under the light of the stars with Nat frantically patting him for injuries as the tunnel entrance collapsed behind him. He pushed Nat’s hands away and whipped around to find Smith passed out cold on the ground. Sam fell to his knees and did some diagnostic checks while Nat got on the comms with Fury. Smith’s breathing was steady, though weak. Sam noticed some bruising on his temple, but overall far less than there should be from what they’d just come through. Especially since Smith had taken the brunt of it as they escaped.

Smith’s eyes cracked open, unfocused until they fixed on Sam. A goofy grin spread across Smith’s face. “Hey, sweetheart,” Smith croaked. “You gonna kiss me better?”

“Um.” Sam wasn’t sure how to reply. Clearly the guy had taken a pretty hard hit.

Smith seemed unbothered as he reached for Sam’s left hand. He pulled it closer to his face, squinted, then widened his eyes. “Where’s your ring?”

“My  _ what?” _

“Did you leave it at home again? S’okay, I’ll put it back on you tonight.” Smith kissed Sam’s knuckles, then pressed Sam’s hand to his chest and passed out again. Sam stared down at him, frozen, until Nat toed him in the ribs and hauled him up to drag Smith to the getaway car.

~

“No one runs that fast,” Nat remarked out of nowhere.

It was a rare day off, and they were halfway through movie number two of a Lord of the Rings marathon. Sam shifted uneasily on the couch and pretended he hadn’t heard the comment.

“And if he  _ can  _ run that fast, why didn’t he pick up his speed earlier? Why was he trying to hold back in front of us?”

Sam shrugged with what he hoped came across as disinterest, even though he’d wondered the same thing. People were entitled to their secrets, and he’d expect someone in league with Fury to have plenty.

“I can’t find  _ anything  _ on this guy earlier than three weeks ago. It’s like he appeared out of thin air.”

Sam snatched the popcorn bowl from Nat’s lap and shoved a handful in his mouth. He knew it drove Nat nuts, not knowing where the hell Smith had come from. Personally, he didn’t want to think about Smith any more. 

Which, naturally, meant that Smith was the only thing he’d thought about since that last mission.

“He called you  _ sweetheart. _ And he looked like a lovesick idiot while he did it.”

Sam felt his cheeks warm as he ate another handful of popcorn.

“Sammy,” Nat said, saccharine sweet, “Where’s your ring-- augh!”

She batted away the shower of popcorn kernels hitting her face.

~

Two very awkward stealth missions later, Sam found himself at the door of Smith’s place, which was one of Fury’s safehouses. His current address had been one of the few things Nat had been able to dig up. Smith seemed resigned when he opened the door. He let Sam in without comment.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The question seemed borne of politeness, as Smith remained in front of Sam, arms folded. He wore jeans, a plain tshirt, and a vulnerable expression.

“I’m good.” Sam took a step closer. He didn’t come here to play games. “I remind you of someone, huh? Someone you lost.”

Smith looked away, closed his eyes. Sam could see the years on him now, in the weary lines of his posture and the pain clearly etched in his face. 

“I just wanna clear the air,” Sam said. “I don’t hold it against you. I understand.”

Smith’s eyes snapped open, and the most miserable smile Sam had ever seen appeared on his face. “I know you do.”

Inexplicably, Sam felt his own heart break. He didn’t know this man, but he felt their connection all the same. He’d felt it since that first moment their eyes had met, uncharted waters that begged Sam to dive in and be swallowed up. He stepped closer and placed a hand on Smith’s arm.

“Don’t,” Smith whispered, but he didn’t pull away when Sam reached up to slide his other hand against the back of his neck.

“Why not?”

Smith shook his head. “I’m not… I can’t stay. I’m leaving soon.”

“So give me one night.”

Smith hesitated, and for a moment Sam was certain that he’d be pushed away. Instead, something seemed to break as Smith pulled Sam into his arms, kissing him desperately, as though he’d never again get another chance.

~

Sam eyed the unconscious Howling Commando at his feet. “Do I even wanna know how James Barnes is still alive?”

“Probably not,” Fury replied. “But I suggest you read his files anyway. We’re going to have to rehabilitate him, somewhere safe.”

“Good thing Smith had all those tips on subduing supersoldiers,” Nat said dubiously. “Where is he, anyway?”

Sam looked away at the mention of Smith. They’d spent the night together, then awoke to a call from Fury alerting them that SHIELD was officially compromised by HYDRA and they were going to take it down. Since the team split up to cover everything, Sam hadn’t seen him since.

It was only one night, but Sam knew it would be on his mind for a long time. Sam had never been with anyone like Smith before. He had known exactly what Sam needed, including a few things that Sam hadn’t even been aware that he liked. And yet each touch seemed to bring Smith a little prick of devastation, even as his pleasure spilled over.

It had been a flavor of intimacy Sam had never experienced, and he still wasn’t sure how to process it.

“Smith’s gone,” Fury said.

“Huh?” Sam frowned, trying to keep the hurt from his voice. “He’s not gonna stick around for the victory party?”

Fucy shook his head. “Cleaning up SHIELD is our responsibility. Smith’s got his own work to do.”

It was for the best, Sam told himself. So what if Smith hadn’t said goodbye? He’d warned Sam that he’d be leaving. And clearly the guy had his own demons. Sam didn’t need that drama in his life.

Still, he leaned into Nat’s touch when she patted a comforting hand against his arm.

~

Fury showed up at Sam’s house a week later, holding a thick manila envelope with a post-it note stuck to the outside, scrawled with an address in upstate New York.

“Got a mission for you while Romanov and I are on clean up duty.”

Sam accepted the envelope with a sigh. Fury tilted his head, studying him from behind his stunners.

“These are Barnes’ files. I need you to deliver them to the person at this address. And… maybe plan on staying for a few days.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and Fury shrugged. “A retired agent lives here. He knows you’re coming. I’m hoping you’ll convince him to come back into the fold. Got a feeling the two of you will get along real well.”

“What makes you think that?” Sam asked warily.

All he got in reply was another shrug and a smile.

~

Sam sat in his car, parked a few yards away from the foot of the driveway. He checked the address again, for the fifth time. It was correct. Still, something was holding him back from approaching. 

A delivery truck pulled into the driveway. Sam watched as a man came to the door to sign for the package. He waved to the delivery person, then set the package in the house before heading down the driveway to the mailbox. 

Sam wondered if this was the retired agent; he looked awfully young, in his late twenties maybe. White guy, blond hair and trimmed beard, in a tight black tshirt, open flannel, and jeans. He looked kind of familiar. Sam realized with a start that it was because he passed by a framed photograph of that face every day at SHIELD. Steve Rogers, the original Captain America.

Back on his porch, Rogers rested his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. A shiver ran up Sam’s spine as another flavor of familiarity hit him. James Smith, younger and less weary.

The front door closed. Sam looked over at the manila envelope on the passenger’s seat with Fury’s note still stuck to it. He picked it up, held it to his chest. Then he smiled, opened the car door, and headed towards the house.


End file.
